


High, Lows; Mostly Highs

by syllic



Category: Political Animals, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Families of Choice, Gen, Tiny Iowa Best Friends, Yuletide 2015, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syllic/pseuds/syllic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T.J.’s life has been a series of highs and lows.  Mostly highs.  Not just because he spends a lot of time on a starship, either.  Mostly it’s his asshole friends, who won’t stop hanging around despite the fact that T.J.’s spent the better part of five years trying to get them to fuck off.  </p><p>Twenty if you start counting right from Jim Kirk.<br/><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	High, Lows; Mostly Highs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alby_mangroves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/gifts).



> Alby, Spock estimates the chances that you will have doubts about who wrote this to be approximately .02%.
> 
> I hope to grow this into a real universe for you in the new year, but here’s a Yuletide snippet to start. You’re great.
> 
> S very kindly betaed; anything that is still wrong with this is because I didn't listen, not because she didn't catch it.  
>   
> 

  
  
“It would be in your best interests to step away from the lieutenant immediately, Commander Reeves.”

T.J. looks over Sean’s shoulder. Sean has a pretty solid grip on his uniform; T.J. had been trying to wriggle away from where Sean had him pressed against the wall without making a scene (i.e. without resorting to punching him in the face), but that’s apparently moot now. Spock is standing about five feet away, arms crossed and eyebrows pulled down into a pretty spectacular v. Uhura is standing next to him, shooting a stern glance around the corner where the hallway curves away. T.J. would put serious money on Jim being the recipient of Uhura’s stare, but he’d probably have a hard time finding someone to take that sucker bet.

“No, you will not be ‘doing a murder’, Captain,” Uhura says, in what T.J. knows is a carefully modulated stage whisper pitched specifically to reach him and Sean. Uhura doesn’t mess around.

Sean takes a step back, letting go of T.J. as he goes and then reaching up to brush at his own uniform like an asshole. T.J. can see him assessing the situation: he’s lost the privacy he was banking on, but he still has something he wants to say. He looks at T.J. and then back at Spock, who takes a smooth step forward like an inscrutable Vulcan guard dog.

“T.J., I’ll catch you later,” Sean says, finally.

T.J. is about to open his mouth to tell him that no, he won’t, but then the pod person formerly known as Spock takes a few more steps forward, slides against the wall to stand next to T.J., and puts his arm very, very awkwardly around his shoulders.

“No, Commander,” Spock says. “You won’t.”

Sean makes a genuinely baffled face. T.J. sees the loud _what the fuck_ in his expression and is (almost) tempted to say _I know_ , because what the fuck? But T.J. is a Hammond first and foremost, and he knows when to keep things off his face. He leans slightly into Spock and raises an eyebrow at Sean.

Sean cocks his head disbelievingly, but apparently decides to let it lie, shaking his head before spinning on his heel and walking away, throwing a sardonic half-wave at them all as he goes.

A few steps later it looks as if he’s overcome by the mystery of it all, though, because he spins back before he gets too far and says, “Okay, no, I’m sorry. I’m supposed to believe you two—” he points between Spock and T.J.— “are what, fucking now? Come on, T.J., I know you—”

“No, you fucking don’t, man—dude, Bones, let me _go_!” comes a disembodied voice from around the hallway.

T.J. rolls his eyes. “Look, Sean, the truth is—”

“Your tone appears to be one of disbelief, Commander,” Spock interrupts. “What is it that you find improbable about the fact that Lieutenant Hammond and I are, as you so eloquently put it, ‘fucking’?”

T.J. tries to squirm out from under Spock’s arm, because enough already; he’s not a gentleman in distress, over here. Once upon a time, a bunch of years ago, maybe, but then he met Jim Kirk on a dusty Iowa field and a lot of his sadness and frustration and anger got… burned up, just trying to keep up with a kid who was even angrier and sadder and more frustrated than T.J. was. 

T.J. met Jim; T.J. learned how to throw a punch; T.J. threw more punches than was strictly advisable; T.J. went to therapy; Jim went to therapy; T.J. and Jim threw even more punches, because it turns out some people are assholes the likes of which therapy’s non-punching philosophy can’t help; T.J. and Jim somehow, _somehow_ , ended up at Starfleet. 

T.J. imagines there’s another life in which a dick like Sean might have crippled him, but that’s not the life T.J. got: the tiny meteor of fury that was 10-year-old Jim Kirk knocked T.J. too far off orbit for T.J. to become anything other than scrappy.

Sean opens his mouth to answer Spock, and T.J. clenches his fist in case Sean says something shitty. Once upon a time he wouldn’t have believed it of Sean, but after a week of Sean being a massive dick (and not in a fun way), T.J. is primed for it. 

Spock tightens an unforgiving, implacable hand on T.J.’s shoulder. It’s subtle enough that Sean probably doesn’t even notice it, but it feels like a vise.

Sean _does_ see it, and then—yep, there it is. In the last week Sean has demonstrated time and time again that he has a spectacular ability to be a decent enough guy right up until he isn’t. 

An ugly, dismissive sneer twists his features, and he says, “Trying to climb the ranks quicker by riding a Hammond, Commander? You think Admiral Barrish has that much pull? She doesn’t. Even if she were inclined to do you a favor, you’d be better off fucking the brother she actually cares about. Isn’t that right, T.J.?”

The thing about Sean is that T.J., while he’d like to say he never had any illusions that what they had was special, _did_ have illusions that what they had was special. He’s still not entirely convinced that Sean didn’t feel the same way; there was _something_ true in the way they clutched at each other in bed, in the way Sean kissed him goodbye before that last time. But maybe that’s just T.J. trying to protect himself. Maybe Sean really did care as little as he says he did. He might be a straight-up dick, not a guy who’s not a dick until he is, and if that’s true the worst part is that T.J. told him stuff—stuff about Dougie, about their mama, about growing up a Hammond and a Barrish. 

It stings to hear that shit hurled back in his face, and so the needle on T.J.’s internal punch-o-meter does what it always does when things sting, thanks to a wayward childhood with too much exposure to Jim Kirk: it abruptly veers into the red zone. Spock must feel it, because suddenly the hand that was holding onto T.J.’s shoulder loosens, and Spock _runs his thumb up T.J.’s neck_.

T.J. stills abruptly, barely restraining a shudder as Spock’s too-warm fingers gently cup the side of his neck, thumb still running absently along T.J.’s skin.

“Commander Reeves,” says Spock, in his most neutral, most deadly voice, “Though you were unable to receive a commission without some… assistance, I think you’ll find that the majority of officers here are competent enough not to require any recommendation beyond their own achievements to succeed.”

That isn’t true at all. Starfleet is full of assholes who got where they are because they mastered the system; because they played politics and won. T.J. would know. But few people fight to ingratiate themselves to the dickbags in charge with the level of transparency that Sean did, seemingly willing to give up all of their principles for a shot at Starfleet command. Sean played politics _badly_ , and everyone knows it. 

Sean flushes an ugly red color all the way to the roots of his hair, and out of the corner of his eye T.J. sees Spock give a very small, very mean smile.

“I was one of the youngest commanders in Starfleet history, did you know?” he asks. “I have been offered a captaincy, more than once, but instead I choose to serve under the youngest captain in Starfleet history, on a starship whose crew has been hand-picked for its extraordinary skills, with crewmembers who overwhelmingly have commendations for conspicuous bravery. That includes Lieutenant Hammond. Am I mistaken in thinking, Commander, that you tried, and failed, to be assigned to the Enterprise?”

T.J. knows from experience that Spock won’t stop now that he’s gotten going. T.J. doesn’t know if it’s the human in him, or whether all Vulcans know exactly how to kick a guy so that he stays down, but Spock can be fucking vicious when he wants to be.

“We’ll soon be departing on a five-year mission, are you aware, Commander Reeves? I was part of the crew selection process, which allowed me to learn that Starfleet command specifically sought the finest scientific and command minds for the Enterprise. I count myself privileged to be among them, and that’s without considering my added good fortune. Few can undertake a lengthy mission like this and be assured of companionship.”

T.J.’s not sure how Spock does it, but he turns their embrace even more intimate; he slots his hip slightly behind T.J.’s, pulls T.J. back toward him, and drops his other hand to T.J.’s side. T.J. allows himself to relax against Spock’s chest, pliant mostly out of total fucking shock. 

The briefest look of uncertainty flashes across Sean’s face. He looks questioningly at T.J. for a second: only for a second, but it’s enough to make T.J. feel less crazy about the way he felt about Sean before all this. Then his face hardens into an unpleasant mask again. 

T.J. keeps his own expression noncommittal and docilely allows Spock to keep—there’s no other word for it— _petting_ him while Sean watches.

Sean looks at them both for another long moment, then gives T.J. a crisp nod and walks away. T.J. is mostly surprised that they managed to get through this whole thing without—

“You missed out, dickhead!” Jim says, barreling around the corner. Uhura rolls her eyes at him, but looks oddly approving when Jim doesn’t allow Sean’s unwillingness to pay any attention to him whatsoever to deter him from continuing, “You lucked out, and then you fucked it up, and you’ll never know what you missed. Good fucking riddance, asshole!”

He’s almost shouting by the end, and he looks like he’s got half a mind to chase after Sean—who is still paying absolutely zero attention to Jim as he walks away—but Spock says, “Captain. Not that I don’t agree with the sentiment, but you are, as is your tendency when you are not restrained, engaging in conduct unbecoming an officer.”

“Doesn’t ‘conduct unbecoming an officer’ describe this idiot’s entire career?” Bones grouses, finally following Jim around the corner with a look of embarrassment on his face and bringing T.J.’s little fan club up to four.

Which reminds T.J.—“You know, guys, not that I don’t love an audience for my unpleasant break-ups, but I actually _can_ stand up for myself. One might even say standing up for myself is something that’s been ingrained in me from birth, thanks to my family. Just a helpful reminder, since you all seem to think I need babysitting, for some reason. I don’t.”

He flashes his best grin at them.

“Your objection is illogical, Lieutenant,” says Spock, which is not where T.J. expected the opposition to come from, honestly. 

(Jim looks pissed that someone beat him to it, which is a small comfort in this highly undesirable scenario.)

T.J. tries not to think about the fact that Spock’s very warm… everything is still pressed against him from his knees to his shoulders. Spock likes percentages: T.J. is 99.9% sure that he’s not _actually_ dating Spock, but at this point he’s starting to wonder about that .1%.

“No one is suggesting you are unable to adequately defend yourself,” Spock continues. T.J. can feel Spock’s breath against his ear, and it’s a little distracting, to be perfectly frank. “But simply because you are _able_ to do something, it does not immediately follow that you _must_ do it. You have access to what I have often heard Nyota refer to as a ‘support network’. It is logical that you should make use of it, and we would be remiss in our friendship if we did not anticipate your needs.”

How Spock can say ‘friendship’ in the same tone one might say ‘rabid sehlat’ while simultaneously suggesting that he and T.J. are fucking like rabbits with the placement of _every single one_ of his limbs is, T.J. supposes, a mystery of Vulcan.

“Okay, okay, I mean, we’re not best buds for all time or anything, Spock, but you essentially just made the Vulcan equivalent of an argument I’ve been hearing since I was a kid. You’ve been spending too much time with Jim, Commander,” says T.J., sliding out and away from what, he’ll admit, was a pretty good embrace.

“Regrettably,” says Spock.

What’s regrettable, T.J. thinks, is that he just thought the word ‘embrace’ to himself without a hint of irony.

“And you,” says T.J., pointing at Jim to distract himself from the fact that he’s apparently become a protagonist in one of those romances he won’t admit to reading as a teenager, “You—because I know it was you—you come up with these schemes and you don’t even try to aim for some level of plausibility? In what universe would Spock be dating me one week after asshole Sean dumped me like a hot potato?”

It’s still a little raw, and T.J. knows his voice sounds it, but Jim would never call him on it, so it’s okay.

“I didn’t—” says Jim.

“Actually, T.J.—” says Uhura.

“I do not think my suggestion was a particularly implausible one, relatively or objectively speaking,” says Spock.

T.J. turns to him with a bravado he doesn’t feel (a Hammond special) and says, “Oh yeah? Me dating Starfleet’s star commander, pride of the Federation? Not implausible? Let's take this opportunity to learn a charming human idiom, Spock, courtesy of the Hammond small-town folksy upbringing narrative: pull the other one.”

“You are an intelligent, unique individual, attractive by the standards of your species and appealing to my personal preferences,” Spock says, as if he hadn’t heard T.J. at all. He’s gone zero to full lecture mode in two seconds, and while T.J. is still parsing his first sentence, he continues, “With a number of particular talents, including a well-above-average gift for the musical arts and the same aural sensitivity that Nyota possesses, which was what originally brought her to my attention and led to our relationship progressing beyond the teacher-student interactions we had in my class. I became similarly aware of you when you began taking my class, and had it not been for your unfortunate association with Cadet—now Captain—Kirk and my pre-existing relationship with Cadet—now Lieutenant—Uhura, I estimate there would have been a 73.2% chance that we could have deepened our association to at least ascertain whether we were romantically compatible. Your keen awareness of the needs of others and your experience with political relationships would complement my own logical and sometimes… intransigent nature.”

T.J. stands there, staring at Spock, and Spock stands there, staring at T.J., flushing the palest shade of green imaginable. It’s a little much for T.J., and apparently Spock’s veneer-of-logic bullshit isn’t enough of a shield for him to bear it, either, because he flashes a silent ta’al at T.J. before heading away toward the atrium where Sean went, without another word. He’s walking conspicuously fast.

Uhura gives T.J. a smile and what can only be described as a salacious wink before following, and Bones rolls his eyes before following them, too.

“Did that just…” Jim looks between T.J. and Spock’s rapidly retreating back, and T.J. widens his eyes at him, because _holy fuck_. “Holy fuck,” says Jim. “That almost makes me feel okay that I didn’t get a chance to put my fist in dickface Sean’s dickface face.”

He looks like he’s going to get angry again, which will get T.J. angry again—or worse, lead to a discussion about feelings, which T.J. and Jim know as per their therapists is healthy and all, but they try not do that shit more than once a month, and there was already the huge ugly-crying mess right after Sean dumped T.J. last week—so T.J. slings an arm over his shoulder and says, “Let’s go punch some shit in one of the exercise rooms instead.”

“Listen,” says Jim, allowing himself to be pulled along but in a way that somehow communicates deep unwillingness, “I’m not going to push this, because we already had one discussion about feelings this month and that thing with Spock just now was like, the stuff of my nightmares, okay, but—you know it’s true, right? Sean doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

He turns his head to look right at T.J., uncomfortably sincere, and T.J. remembers a boy in a dusty field, discovering T.J. fucking around with his PADD amidst the corn where he’d gone to get away from the holo crews at his house, saying, “I’m Jim Kirk. We go to school together. I’ve been watching you. You don’t seem too terrible. Wanna be friends or something?”

“Yeah,” says T.J. He’s answering 10-year old Jim; he’s agreeing with Jim now. “Yeah, I know.”  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
>  Sooo this is a universe where the Hammonds/Barrishes are bigwigs in Starfleet/The Federation, and Jim’s backstory is the same (as per the 2009 film) and T.J. and Jim are the littlest broken boys in all the Iowa land. Except that T.J. has enough warmth to ease Jim’s anger; and Jim has enough fire to make T.J. feel less alone, which helps him articulate his feelings, which in turn means his family actually sees _him_ , rather than the symptoms/coping mechanisms of his depression. Neither of them is perfect, but they’re best friends with issues rather than too-lonely boys marked by too much sadness.
> 
> T.J. has a much stronger sense of self-worth as a direct result; he still dates Sean, but when Sean assholes out, T.J. can appreciate that that’s what’s happened, and eventually moves on. After this snippet the gang + T.J. go on starship adventures and then T.J. meets a nice boy on the five-year voyage and actually builds a healthy relationship (and then Jim and Spock and Uhura are all dating even though Jim is the worst, but that’s why they love him) and eventually the five of them raise kids on the Enterprise together, the end.
> 
> Happy Yuletide, everyone who never asked for this to happen. This is the very definition of a treat--100% written with a conversation Alby and I had in mind--so I am delighted others enjoyed it.
> 
> I’m [sigebeam](http://twitter.com/sigebeam) on twitter, [singingkingoftheroad](http://singingkingoftheroad.tumblr.com) on tumblr, syllic on [LJ](http://syllic.livejournal.com)/[DW](http://syllic.dreamwidth.org) (though I'm not on either much these days), or sigebeam at gmail, if longform epistolary feels are your thing (they are mine).


End file.
